A Rose By Any Other Name
by talanai rialric
Summary: Two white roses, stained black by the blood of demons.  Sebastian decides to resolve some outstanding conditions of the agreement, and Claude tries to make amends.


A Rose By Any Other Name

A/N: I love Kuroshisuji. It's great. Really. So, this is a bit different from the rest of my fics (not just because it isn't Naruto…) This is the first time I've written a fic with a specific person in mind to whom I wish to dedicate it.

So, I'm sorry I threw a notebook at your face. I hope this makes the throbbing stop.

Disclaimer: I don't own Kuroshitsuji. There would be a significant increase in shojo sparkles if I did. And season two would be longer. And…well…we won't talk about the rest. You can fill in the blanks.

Warnings: Well, its rated M for a reason. Enough said?

Sebastian wheeled the cart through the empty halls of the Phantomhive manner, his pace brisk but unhurried. He would arrive at Master Ciel's room with plenty of time to wake and dress the young lord before the tea cooled enough to drink. That morning's selection was Her Majesty's Earl Grey, a particular favorite of the young lord.

The door opened without creaking, squeaking, or groaning in protest, the hinges well-oiled and polished to perfection. Closing the door behind himself, Sebastian paused a moment to wipe away a fingerprint on the otherwise perfect sheen of the doorknob. From the size, it could only be Ciel's, which prompted a fleeting curiosity. What had Ciel needed that would prompt him to leave his room in the middle of the night? Or, perhaps more importantly, why hadn't Sebastian anticipated such a need?

It was a most troubling observation.

His face betrayed none of his thoughts, however, as he threw open the curtains to allow the new day to illuminate the room. Ciel made a small grumble of protest, still too asleep to suppress such a natural reaction. Sebastian took a moment to admire the purity of scene before him. Eyes closed, hair haloed about his head, small body wrapped in volumes of white fabric, Ceil looked almost angelic, certainly innocent. The disparity with Ciel's conscious form, ripe with a fierce attitude and constant scheming, amused the demon.

Ciel's soul would prove most delectable, given the proper amount of time to mature.

"Good morning, young master." Sebastian smiled his way through the morning routine.

"Eh," Ciel groaned again, burrowing deeper under the covers.

"This morning's selection is Her Majesty's own Earl Grey." Sebastian gently drew back the covers and helped Ciel upright. The routine followed the usual script. Sebastian dressed Ciel while the tea steeped. Ciel drank tea while Sebastian tied his shoes and recounted the day's schedule. It was as everyday had been before, and many days would be until Ciel's soul had revenge.

Again.

"And at four o'clock, you have an appointment with—is something the matter, young lord?" Sebastian interrupted himself upon seeing the look on Ciel's face. Something almost mischievous sparkled in the piercing blue eye, and Sebastian could only imagine what was running through the Earl's mind. None of the possibilities were particularly appealing.

"Sebastian, why is it you've taken to wearing that? I don't recall ordering you to do so." Ciel pointed to the black rose resting on Sebastian's lapel, the petals perfectly preserved by the demon blood tainting the once white surface.

"This, my lord? I feel it adds a certain sense of class to my wardrobe, thus reflecting favorably upon the Phantomhive Estate." Sebastian refrained from touching the flower, but couldn't stop the flash of memory. He must have betrayed the lie in his eyes, because Ciel seemed unimpressed, though he refrained from commenting on it.

"I shall take my afternoon tea in my study." Ciel stood.

"Yes, my lord." Sebastian opened the door.

"And Sebastian? Don't ever presume to lie to me again. That's an order." Ciel commanded. He swept into the hall and disappeared in the direction of his study, leaving a stunned butler holding the door.

"Yes, my lord." Sebastian said softly, eyes closing in a silent sigh.

While preparing lunch, Sebastian allowed his mind to wander. His jacket, carefully hung on the requisite hook, displayed the black rose prominently, and Sebastian couldn't help but think of how he obtained it.

Which inevitably drove his mind to Claude Faustus.

The wooden spoon in his hand snapped.

"Unacceptable. Simply unacceptable from a Phantomhive butler." Sebastian chided himself, discarding the destroyed utensil and the batter he had been preparing for the afternoon cake. It simply wouldn't do to miss a splinter of wood and have the young master injure himself. And what kind of butler would he be, if he couldn't remake a cake before tea time?

Tea.

The word brought back so many memories.

Claude, seated across a table, golden knife in hand. Claude promising. Claude slicing open a hand. Claude bleeding. Claude. Simply insufferable.

"Simply one hell of a butler." Sebastian sighed and shook his head. This impropriety simply could not continue, not when there was so much to be done. A distant crash told Sebastian that yet another set of dishes would need replacing. And he'd failed to anticipate another need of the young master.

"Unacceptable." Sebastian slammed his fist against his palm determinedly. "Simply unacceptable."

Worse than that, if he was slipping, Claude would have yet another thing to mock him for, and that would prove intolerable. In fact, something must be done about the situation. A Phantomhive butler simply could not suffer the indignity of performing his duties less than perfectly.

And the failure to keep Ciel's soul, to devour it, was significantly less than perfect.

Sebastian looked at the rose again.

"After tea, then," He said to the rose.

The matter resolved for the moment, Sebastian placed his new cake batter in a round pan, stoked the oven flames, and placed the pastry-to-be inside to bake.

He swept up the broken ceramic shards and added the now incomplete set of tableware to the ever growing collection in the basement. May young master Ciel never find out about such waste.

"And for your enjoyment, young master, today I have prepared a chocolate cake with raspberry and chocolate ganache, topped with whole raspberries and warm fudge." Sebastian presented the dish with a flourish, as befit such a luxurious dessert.

"So many sweets will ruin an appetite for dinner, as any _true _butler would know."

Sebastian imagined that, if he had hackles, they would be bristling.

"Alois Trancy has, Master Ciel," Sebastian said with a bow. "Come to join you for tea."

"This wasn't in the schedule, Sebastian." Ciel's glare cut deeply. He thought he'd made his feelings toward the Trancy clear when he'd stabbed the boy. Pity his aim hadn't been better.

"My apologies, young master. I was not made aware of any intent to visit from the Trancy Estate. " Sebastian shot Claude a scathing look. Claude simply smirked over his fake glasses and pulled back a chair so Alois could sit.

"Sebastian. Leave us. That's an order."

"Yes, my lord." Sebastian bowed.

"And take him with you." Meaning Claude. Ciel left no room for argument, his full attention consumed by staring down Alois Trancy.

"Yes, my lord." Sebastian bowed again, and gestured for Claude to head for the door.

"I shall be near, should you require anything, young master." Claude said, bowing slightly deeper than Sebastian had, in the process crossing the invisible line from irritating to outright antagonistic. Sebastian fought the urge to strangle the other demon then and there, reminding himself that killing Claude would result in a very large mess, and would interfere with Ciel's enjoyment of the cake.

It simply wasn't worth the effort.

Once in the hall, Sebastian and Claude assumed positions on either side of the doors. From a distance, they were nearly identical statues, varied only slightly in detail. Like life sized book ends.

"Something on your mind, Sebastian? You seem…distracted." The way Claude said it, _distracted_, made it into an utterly deplorable word, a curse.

"Perhaps distracted is too indelicate a word," Sebastian countered. "I would choose 'contemplative.'"

"Then what, pray tell, are you _contemplating?_"

"Our agreement."

"Surely you do not wish to go back on your word?"

"No. I am reflecting upon the conditions rather than the terms."

"I am not certain I can discern a difference in them."

"If I may be blunt?" Sebastian asked.

Claude inclined his head slightly, consenting.

"I wish you to cease impugning the honor of the Phantomhive estate."

"I do not recall ever beginning to so do."

"The endless slights about what you perceive as my shortcomings as a butler. By insulting me, you are insulting the Earl Phantomhive, for it was he who retained me, and it is in his employ that I currently reside." Sebastian glared throughout the last sentence.

"Well, Sebastian Michaelis, I never though you would be so easily roused."

"I shall not idly allow the honor of the Phantomhives—"

Claude silenced him with a kiss.

Sebastian stabbed Claude with one of his table knives, under the jacket of course to prevent any unsightly stains from reaching the eyes of the young masters. Such a sight would certainly distress them, and that would be unacceptable.

"I will request that you not attempt that again." Sebastian said, pulling out the knife, wiping it on the side of Claude's shirt, and vanishing it into his own jacket.

"You ruined my shirt."

"You ruined my tea service."

Claude grabbed Sebastian by the collar and slammed him into the far wall.

"Perhaps I can…make it up to you."

"Doubtful."

"Hmm. Is there somewhere private we might go?"

"That is unnecess—"

Claude kissed him again. Ignored the three knives embedded in his flesh. Ran his tongue over the silken lips of his greatest rival.

"So, somewhere private?" Claude pulled back for air.

Sebastian glared and was about to stab Claude again when his difficulty in the kitchen earlier that afternoon raced to the forefront of his mind. It would be the perfect opportunity, in private, to simply rid himself of the troublesome Claude Faustus, and once again have his leisure to prepare Ciel's soul, free of competition. Sebastian pulled his knives free again.

"This way."

Sebastian led Claude down the hall, up three flights of stairs into the attic, across the entire building, down a disused staircase—immaculately dust and cobweb free despite that—to the ground floor.

"This is as far from the young masters as we might get without leaving the manse." Sebastian opened an unadorned door and gestured.

Though neither needed the light to see, Sebastian lit the lamps out of habit. A complex system of ropes crisscrossed the ceiling, terminating in a wall of carefully labeled bells.

"And the young masters will still be able to summon us, should they have the need." Claude noted with approval.

"Naturally. Any competent butler would never leave his aster unattended. " Sebastian turned the phrase back on Claude so smoothly it took the other a moment to realize what had happened. Claude smirked humorlessly.

"Now, I believe I was in the process of making amends." Claude pushed Sebastian back up against the wall, and Sebastian let himself be kissed, even going so far as to kiss back, just a little, to make the ploy believable.

Claude brought one hand up to cup Sebastian's chin, then combed his finger through the silken black hair. Sebastian angled his head under the touch, almost purring in pleasure. Of all the feelings in the world, a scalp massage was second only to the taste of a soul. Damn Claude for knowing that. Hips pressed tight against his, bringing Sebastian's attention to the fact that he wasn't the only one obviously enjoying himself.

"I thought you were trying to make amends. This seems more like make-up sex," Sebastian said.

"Amends, make-up sex. I fail to discern a difference."

"One of them involves us remaining clothed." Sebastian countered dryly, as Claude kissed his way down his exposed neck.

"I do hate your jacket. It conceals far too much of that perfect body."

"You truly are insufferable. And if you ruin this one I shall not be so forgiving as I was the last time." The look in Sebastian's eyes told Claude he wasn't joking. The bulge in Sebastian's pants told Claude he wasn't overly opposed to the idea of disrobing.

"Well, if you're that fond of it…" Claude straightened the lapels and smoothed them, pressing on Sebastian's chest perhaps a little more firmly than absolutely necessary. He made to move away, as if disinterested.

"I did not say to leave it on." Sebastian's tone was needier than either expected in should be. Both cursed silently, Sebastian in frustration, Claude as the statement sent lightning flooding through his veins.

"Yes, my lord," Claude mocked. Sebastian sighed. This was going to be harder than he anticipated. Claude peeled the tailored jacket off Sebastian's lean arms, receiving little help with the process. He cast about the room for somewhere to hang it, lest Sebastian seek bloody revenge for some invisible wrinkle. Finding a chair back the only suitable place, Claude draped the jacket carefully, then removed his own and laid it carefully across the seat. The two black roses clung to the lapels.

Claude turned back just in time to see Sebastian bit the fingertipap of one glove and pull it off slowly, seductively, revealing the pentagram etched on his hand. After that, any chance Sebastian might have had to change the outcome of the encounter vanished.

"You, Sebastian Michaelis, are mine." Claude resumed the fiery kisses, trailing his tongue along Sebastian's lower lip until Sebastian ceded entrance.

Claude fumbled with the buttons of Sebastian's shirt, unable to get a firm grip with his gloves on. Sebastian brought his hands up and undid the offending closures himself. As soon as the last button opened, Claude's hands were roaming up and down Sebastian's torso, admiring the smooth planes of defined muscle. Such perfection was the work of centuries, something unattainable by humans, something as near to godly as a demon could get.

And Sebastian was ticklish.

It started as a slight shudder as gloved fingers caressed his sides and devolved into an involuntary laugh into the kiss. Sebastian pushed Claude away, flushing with embarrassment.

"I begin to see why Grell finds you so enchanting. Who would have thought a demon might be ticklish?" Claude said.

"Begin to see?" Sebastian gestured at his naked torso, offended. "You ought to fully appreciate this by now." Too late Sebastian realized the double entendre.

"Fully appreciate? It would be my pleasure."

They were careless with the rest of the clothes, in so far as they simply draped them over the desk rather than finding a specific place to hang them or way to keep them from getting too wrinkled.

Flesh against flesh, hands freed from gloves, and the semblance propriety returned to hell where it belonged left the two demon butlers as free as they might ever become. Hands caressed, eagerly, carefully, and their lips scarcely parted for the breaths they never needed but were accustomed to taking. Both ached with need, and there was only one way to satiate it.

Claude's fingers traced Sebastian's spine, sinking lower, and lower, and circling the puckered entrance teasingly. Sebastian growled his disapproval, and Claude slid in a finger, meeting a great deal of resistance from Sebastian's body.

"Do you want me to find something?" Claude asked, more out of concern for hiding this from Ciel and Alois than out of fear of hurting Sebastian. Like a demon would really be hurt by that. But, if Sebastian limped into the room, Ciel would ask questions, and Alois would be offended, and…Claude shuddered internally.

"Here." Sebastian produced a bottle of lotion. Judging from the familiar scent, it was the preferred skin care product of one Ciel Phantomhive.

"With this? Really? Won't your Bocchan be upset if he knew what you used this for?"

"Won't your Danna-sama be upset if he knew what you were doing?"

"Would you prefer it if I stopped?"

"Well, that would be a sorry apology, would it not?" Sebastian said.

Claude answered by slipping a well lubed finger against Sebastian's prostate. Sebastian's head flew back, his hair whipping into his face.

"Better?"

Sebastian made an indecipherable sound, which Claude took as a yes. He forced in a second finger, teasingly missing the heavenly nerves by a hairsbreadth.

"Any time this century, if it is convenient," Sebastian gasped in the middle the last word, spoiling a perfectly sarcastic sentence.

"Yes, my lord." Claude mocked. He removed his fingers and lifted Sebastian's legs to his hips. "You may want to brace yourself." Not giving Sebastian time to follow his advice, Claude thrust in as deep as he could in one fluid stroke.

Sebastian's fingers scrabbled for purchase on Claude's flawless shoulders. His back scraped against the wall, and every thrust sent the bells above their heads jingling softly.

"Mm…Like a fine wine paired with an exquisite meal," Claude said. He felt Sebastian tense around him.

"In the middle of this you decide to compare me to a wine? How…uncouth." Sebastian frowned.

"And having intimate relations with a man in a closet is not uncouth?"

"Now my room is a closet. Thank you, Claude Faustus, for enlightening me with a new level of tact. I wasn't aware one could possess so little."

"This is your…then where's the bed? Why am I doing all this work?"

"Who said I sleep? What kind of butler would I be—ahh…"

Claude redoubled his efforts, starting to feel the strain of support both himself and Sebastian, and moving, and experiencing the deliciousness that was Sebastian's body. Not to mention his talented hands and tongue.

"Mmm, Claude…almost…" Sebastian was surprising quiet for how close he had to be. His words were whispered and half of them were inaudible. The only sign that he was enjoying was the straining erection trapped between them. Claude shifted his grip on Sebastian so he could palm, and stroke, and stoke the flames of desire ever higher, until…

"Faustus," Sebastian sighed, losing himself to the throes of orgasm, his muscles clenching furiously and, after a moment, pulling Claude over the edge of sanity with him.

Claude came back to himself on the floor, covered in unmentionable fluids, naked, and alone. He looked around, finally spotting Sebastian standing on the far side of the room. Still nude, the obsessive butler was wiping himself clean with water from a basin, working his way down from his head. His back was to Claude, granting the rival butler a premium view of the sensuous curve of his spine and the strong lines of his legs.

Blood, and other fluids, slowly ran down the porcelain skin of his thighs, and Sebastian stood awkwardly, shifting his weight to minimize the pain he had to be feeling. Claude pushed himself upright, recoiling instinctively when he caught sight of the knife wedged in the floor by his head.

"What is this?"

"A knife." Sebastian didn't bother to turn around.

"Why is it so close to my head?"

"I was going to kill you, but then I saw the mess we already made, and killing you while you slept seemed…plebian."

"So you spared me out of a desire to keep your floor clean? I'm flattered, really."

"Just get dressed. Master Ciel will be growing weary of Alois Trancy shortly, and it is such a long trip. I would hate to delay you unnecessarily." Sebastian had finished cleaning himself off and began dressing.

"You have a great ass." Out of ideas, Claude went for the obvious shock.

Sebastian stiffened halfway through buttoning his shirt, giving Claude another moment to admire his legs.

"Tactless." Sebastian was fully clothed in less than a minute, smoothing the lapels of his jacket and adjusting the tie on his hair. He looked untouched, as if nothing had happened.

Claude suddenly felt awkward, naked on Sebastian's floor. A soft chiming filled the air, and both butlers immediately looked to see which bell was ringing, reflexively rather than out of a specific need to see where their masters were. The boys hadn't left Ciel's study.

"In hindsight, perhaps leaving them alone in a room with weapons was not the greatest idea." Claude proposed, hastening into his clothing. He was still dirty, and felt rather gross, but the Earl Trancy was not known for patience.

Sebastian led the way through a maze of halls, none of them lit, and they emerged in the kitchen. From there it was a matter of moments before they were outside the study again. Sebastian knocked softly to alert Ciel to his presence, then opened the door.

"How may I be of assistance, young master?" Sebastian stepped into the room and bowed.

"The Earl Trancy is feeling fatigued and wishes to retire to his home. Immediately." Ciel's eye was angry, and Sebastian felt a twinge of something like guilt for leaving him alone with the deranged Trancy child.

"Very good, my lord." Sebastian bowed again. "I'll have his carriage drawn around immediately, if I might prevail upon master Faustus to prepare the Earl for travel." Claude gathered the request was far from optional. Sebastian wanted him gone. For some reason that hurt.

Such was Sebastian's efficiency that scarcely five minutes later he stood on the front stoop, watching the Trancy carriage disappear around a bend. Certain they were gone, he returned to the study to prepare Ciel for dinner. Since the foyer was empty, Sebastian allowed himself a brief respite halfway up the stairs. His entire back ached dully, ad he vaguely wondered if he hadn't done some damage in allowing Claude to have his way.

He assumed his customary place behind Ciel, waiting.

"Sebastian."

"Yes, bocchan?"

"Where did you disappear to this afternoon?"

"I was attending to some matters of the estate. Trifling things, really, but things that must be done to keep the manner running smoothly."

"And what, precisely did that entail?"

Sebastian winced, kicking himself for agreeing not to lie. It made matters so much more complicated than they needed to be. For a moment, he toyed with the idea of telling Ciel, in detail, what transpired, but decided against it. The telling would be rather humiliating, especially since Claude Faustus wasn't dead.

"Perhaps when you are older, my lord." Sebastian skirted the topic.

Confused, Ciel thought about it for a moment, then blushed furiously.

"I will inform you when dinner is ready, bocchan." Sebastian bowed and left.

He pulled the rose from his lapel and studied it as he walked to the kitchen.

"That which we call a rose…" he said.


End file.
